The Same Man
by Quechy
Summary: About 18 to 20 years ago, Sylvia Garcia, Joanna Mitchell, Brooke Diamond and Jennifer Knight gave birth to four different baby boys from the same man. Now when the boys have grown up and crossed paths through a certain tragedy, they decide to find this "daddy dearest". Four brothers, four stories. One father, one truth. [Warning! Language, alcohol, drugs, cutting, violence]
1. Unexpected Loss

**I wrote another multi-chap, you might wanna bow down, now. (And this is the part where you all reply me with; "I might wanna hit you now!")**

**Don't hit me. Yet.**

**I just seriously needed to write this down and publish it before I forget because really, I've got thousands of fanfic ideas in my head and they. won't. stop. (help!) I bet you fanfic authors know what I'm talking about, so please spare me?**

**This story itself is somehow inspired by the movie **_**Four Brothers**_**. Just with my own plot, though. Well, without further ado, here it is; the new story, with more drama, brotherhood, heart-warming scenes and did I mention angst? (Yeah, that's right, I know you like your angst *wink*)**

**Title may change, by the way, any suggestions?**

* * *

**The Same Man**

Prologue

_"Unexpected Loss"_

* * *

To be honest, Dak didn't know how to respond when he was suddenly faced with two tall men, dressed sharp and wearing sunglasses. He literally gaped when they showed him the badge they pulled out from their pockets: FBI.

It was graduation day; a special day for all seniors such as himself. What were FBI agents doing at his school, on this day? He'd never seen agents like these in real life; after all, don't these things only happen in television?

So when they asked the astounded teenager a question, he had to stammer out, "Y-Y-Yeah . . . I mean, yes, yes, I do, sir. I do know him, he's my best friend." Dak felt like slapping himself across the face immediately for gaping and possibly look like an insane fish. "W-Why are you looking for h-him? Did he . . . did he do something wro—"

"Will you please bring us to him?" The taller one of the two agents spoke and Dak zipped his mouth shut, nodding because he wouldn't want to mess with the authority, now, would he?

"Yes, yes, of course, he's just changing into his graduation robe. Why don't I . . . why don't I go get him and you can wait here and . . . uh, I'll go get him right now!" With that, Dak dashed to wherever Kendall Knight was.

Once he reached the restrooms, he spotted both his best friends chatting by the lockers not far from where he is right now. So Dak, out of breath, joined in the two and completed their trio.

A giggle came from the girl who was in the middle of curling her hair (Dak wondered why Camille had to do that every day when her dark locks are curly already), "Dak, what's the rush?"

The boy doubled over and was still catching his breath, chest heaving, nostrils flaring as he held a 'one moment' hand gesture.

"Dude, please don't tell me you were running around school with your graduation robe," Kendall said as he laughed, and Camille giggled at the imagined sight. That would've been something they should have recorded. You know, future laughs purposes only, of course, because seeing Dak Zevon running around school with a black robe would be definitely entertaining.

Dak took a long breath before shaking his head, "Guys, guys, this is serious," he gasped, because seriously, this was extreme work-out, okay? "There are two FBI agents in front of our classroom and . . ." he took a breath, "And they're looking for you, Ken."

The amused smile on Kendall's face faded immediately, and Dak would laugh at him in return to see his current facial expression if it weren't for the FBI on their tails right now. Even Camille stopped giggling.

"What?"

* * *

To Camille Roberts, Kendall Knight was one of the strongest people she had ever known. That's why when said person is on his knees, sobbing loudly at his loss, she couldn't help but shed tears of her own.

Camille has always been dramatic, probably as a result from being the best in the performing arts and theatre department. However, this time, the tears that rolled down her pink cheeks were not false. She glanced at Dak through her mascara-ruined lashes, giving him a look to tell him that she had no idea what to do.

Dak returned the look, saying that he, too, didn't know what he could do to comfort their now broken best friend.

Usually both Camille and Dak would try their best to cheer Kendall up whenever he was feeling down. But this was just too much. They've never even seen Kendall cry; now he was sobbing so hard, it hurt their hearts.

Kendall was always strong—but not strong enough to bear the news of his mother's death.

* * *

**Hi.**

**Review please.**


	2. New Discoveries

**Like I said (or rather, typed) in _Bloodstained_, you readers get two updates.**

**Love me love me love me again.**

**No?**

**Ok.**

* * *

**The Same Man**

Chapter 1

_"New Discoveries"_

* * *

It's like a roller-coaster ride, life.

Just this morning, he was bidding his mother goodbye, giving her a little peck on the cheek as she told him that she'd meet him soon for his graduation ceremony. Who knew it was his last chance to see her, to kiss her, to say goodbye.

Jennifer was out of his life just like—_snap!_ that. And just like that, Kendall Knight is now an orphan.

He found himself in the FBI office the next two hours later, being asked a lot of questions. Kendall couldn't see how disheveled his whole appearance was, or how his eyes were red and swollen. He couldn't tell if he was still sobbing or not, but the tears couldn't seem to stop.

"Last question, sweetie," said the pretty agent who was handling the fragile teen right now. She tucked in a lock of her dark hair over her ear before asking, "Do you know a man called _Scott Rush?"_

The name being stressed, Kendall's dull, dead eyes snapped back to life as he stared back at the agent. "Is he the one who murdered my mom . . . ?" If he was, then Kendall wouldn't hesitate to track his sorry soul down before beating the lights out of him.

There was a second of silence before the agent continued, "Just answer the question, Kendall, do you know anyone by this name?"

"Agent Brewster, _is he the one who murdered my mom?_" Kendall asked again, slowly, punctuating every single word. The intensity that was always in his green eyes came back after being gone for two hours or so.

Sighing, Agent Brewster shook her head, "I see you're not going to answer this—"

"Agent Brewster," there was a soft plea in Kendall's voice as he begged, "Please," and that was all it took for anyone to submit to Kendall Knight; with those big, teary, green eyes . . .

Pursing her lips, Emily Brewster decided that this boy deserved to know the truth, "No, he is not your mother's killer," she sighed, opening a few files in front of her, ". . . This might be hard to take in, honey, after all that's happened today. You've told me that you were raised single-handedly with your mother, which is the truth. However, we've got the DNA tests in an hour ago."

Suddenly, Kendall was leaning in with interest, curiosity or fear—he's not sure himself. To be honest, it scared him a bit. This agent was somehow going to reveal his father's identity. "You're saying that . . . you know who my biological father is?"

"Kendall Knight," at this, a file of the DNA test was shown to the young blond, "Son of Jennifer Knight . . . and Scott Rush."

There was a moment of silence before the boy leaned back on his chair, "Oh," was all he said before shrugging, his curious eyes dying for the second time today, "So this 'Scott Rush'is my biological dad. Okay."

"You don't seem surprised."

Another shrug.

"We are currently tracking his position and whereabouts; some witnesses testified that he was last seen in Las Vegas, three days ago. We haven't determined—"

Last seen in Vegas three days ago? Whoa, hold the phone! Sitting up straight with wide eyes, Kendall cut off, "Wait, what? Y-You mean, he's alive?" Kendall cried, while looking at the agent in disbelief, "I mean . . . my mom has never really talked about my father, so I assumed he's dead and all . . ."

"I wouldn't blame you; that's what any child would've thought."

". . . Yeah, well. He's pretty much dead to me, now."

"Kendall," Emily started, "There is . . . one thing you should know about Scott Rush," she said, voice softening, "He might be the reason why Jennifer was murdered today."

At what she said, Kendall immediately lunged forward, "What . . . ? But you said . . . !"

"He wasn't the murderer himself, but we suspect that the murderers were looking for him."

"Why would they be looking for him? And even if they were looking for him, why should I care?"

"Kendall,"

"Are they trying to kill him, then?"

"Possibly."

"So be it. What does this have to do with me?"

"Kendall, we—"

"Go ahead and kill Scott Rush, for all I care."

"Kendall, please,"

"He was never my father. He was never there for me growing up, why should I—"

"You could be in danger, Kendall,"

". . . I'm under a threat? Are they going to kill me, too?"

"We fear so. That's why we—"

"I don't care. They can kill me, too."

"Kendall . . . !"

"It won't bring mom back."

There was a painful minute of silence and after that sentence being said, Kendall can feel his throat tighten to the point of him having hard time breathing. His teeth gritted, head throbbed and eyes stung.

But Kendall was strong; he wasn't going to let Emily see him cry again. Not again.

"Three other murders happened today, Kendall," the agent stated sternly before continuing with a softer tone, "Three other single mothers are dead, three other young men are orphaned at the same time this afternoon."

With this, Kendall felt his skin crawl in terror. There were three other guys who are experiencing the same thing he was going through at this very moment.

This was horrifying, it almost felt like a dream . . . or to be more precise, a nightmare. It was so surreal, he wishes to just wake up to his mother, smiling and comforting him, telling him everything was just a dream, telling him everything will be alright.

Kendall closed his eyes for a minute or two. But when he opened them, there he was, still in the same room, still in the same state. What he saw weren't his mother's loving eyes, but Emily Brewster's concerned ones.

Nothing had changed. This wasn't a dream, after all.

"Now, I believe you don't know any of these boys. . ." Emily said as she pressed her lips into a thin line before opening three files for Kendall to look at. There were pictures and detailed data of each newly orphaned young men on each file, ". . . But I suggest you go meet them and get to know each other after this."

Looking at the faces on the pictures, Kendall felt his eyes getting warm again. These people are suffering just like him. He blinked back the tears and tore his gaze away, afraid that he would see himself in the other three.

Kendall fixed his eyes on the window. It was almost dark outside, probably almost 7 PM. Then he had spent hours in the FBI office, probably three to four hours.

"Do you hear me, Kendall? You're going to have to get along with these three." Emily called as Kendall's eyes snapped back into hers.

Clearing his throat, Kendall let out a shaky breath, running his fingers through the blond locks. "Yeah . . . ? Why is that? So the four of us can have a pity party together or . . ."

"Because they are your _brothers_," The agent stated and Kendall's world seemed even stranger to him by the minute.

* * *

This is ridiculous. No, this is _absolutely insane_.

Kendall couldn't understand how this could be reality—this must be a dream. Another option to this madness would be a prank, but who would have heart to pull this evil escapade?

Head in pain, Kendall tried to recap what has happened so far today.

His mother was murdered this afternoon; he had to leave his own graduation ceremony right after two FBI agents came to get him; he found out that his biological father is still alive and possibly be the reason why his mother was killed; and now they're telling him, he's got three brothers he's never known of . . . ?

This was driving him up the wall with shock, confusion and pain; the perfect mixture to make anyone go mental, crazy, insane, mad . . . whatever you call it.

He was being guided to another room, right now, and he followed, even though he was much too preoccupied with his own thoughts. Once Agent Brewster stopped and opened a door, Kendall lifted his face from looking down.

There, before him, were the three young men who had their faces on the pictures in the files he saw earlier. They were seated on each side of a square table, leaving one seat vacant. Kendall supposes that's where he'll be sitting for the next few hours.

"Boys, this is Kendall Knight," Emily introduced, softly patting Kendall's back as he took a small step into the room, "He is the last son of Scott Rush according to DNA tests and our on-going investigation, your baby brother."

"I'm not a baby . . ." Kendall protested in a small voice, looking at the agent who merely gave a sympathetic smile.

"Take a seat, sweetheart, and try to talk things out with them," she said to Kendall in a gentle voice before speaking up to all four boys in the room, "Get to know each other, boys, we'll get right back with you."

And with that, Emily Brewster went out of the room and continued her investigation along with her team. Kendall was left standing awkwardly for a second before slowly making his way to the table and pulling the chair to sit on.

Unfortunately, when he was about to be seated, a leg lashed out and kicked the chair away, causing the poor blond to fall flat on his behind with a yelp. Kendall saw the guy who performed the action smirk at him mockingly before readjusting his black cap backwards.

With a frown, Kendall was about to challenge him, but he felt two strong hands beneath his upper arm before being pulled up to his feet. When Kendall turned around, he was met with a scowling brunet.

"There really was no reason to do that, Logan," he said, glaring at the culprit, who only raised both his hands while shrugging. Kendall felt thankful for this person who was decent to not only help him up, but to defend him as well, "Are you okay?"

Kendall quickly nodded and muttered a small, ". . . Thank you."

A tiny smile painted across the brunet's lips as his hazel eyes softened, "Kendall, was it?" He asked and Kendall nodded mutely again. The taller teen held out a hand to shake, "I'm James."

Nervously, the blond gripped James's hand and shook it slowly, ". . . Hi, James." He said quietly, "So you're . . . one of my brothers. . ."

"_Half_-brothers, actually."

Both James and Kendall turned their heads towards the young Latino who had his head down the entire moment. Kendall looked at James questioningly and the other gave a small sigh, "That's Carlos."

"It would be nice to meet you if it weren't under these circumstances . . ." a painful, sad smile plastered across Carlos's face. "I'm sorry for your loss, Kendall."

Kendall felt as if his pain had been mirrored perfectly. He nodded sadly, "Thank you . . . I'm sorry for your loss, too, Carlos," he got a small, sad smile in return and turned to see the last one who was drumming his fingers on the table, "And you're. . . Logan?"

The somber expression on his face was replaced by a cocky façade, "What up, sucker?" He smirked, and again, Kendall felt like punching him square in the face, because he could totally take that jerk-face down!

But James had pulled the chair back to help Kendall get seated, and once he was, James had returned to sit where he sat before, across Kendall. On his right was Logan and on his left was Carlos, vice-versa for Kendall.

"So . . . how do we start?" Kendall asked in an uneasy state.

"You can tell us more about yourself?" Carlos suggested with an encouraging, but still sad smile. Kendall understood perfectly how painful and confusing this all is.

He took a glance at James and found that it was strange that he seemed so calm in this mad situation. It was also strange seeing Logan acting like he didn't even care about his mother's death (which was extremely bizarre, by the way).

But he spoke up in hopes of gaining comfort with his newfound 'brothers' (despite the fact that Logan probably dislikes him already, judging by his earlier actions), "Uh . . . I'm Kendall Knight . . ."

"Yeah, we know that, dumbass."

"Logan, give him a chance," James sighed before gesturing the youngest one in the room to continue, "Go on, Kendall."

Kendall nodded unsurely before carrying on, "I . . . I'm a senior at Palm Woods High School . . . in fact, it's my graduation today." He said and smiled when James and Carlos muttered a 'congratulations' while Logan simply rolled his eyes.

Within minutes, Kendall told the other three more facts about himself, and with James's warm, encouraging smile and Carlos's nice comments, he felt even more open to them. It was strange to him, but it might be because of the same blood running through their veins, he guesses.

"My mom was . . ." Kendall cleared his throat, "She was happy. She was strong and healthy. Oh, and she was funny; she always makes me laugh. She was the reason why I study hard at school and work my butt off in hockey practices to get a scholarship. I just . . . I just can't believe she's gone, now . . ."

Hearing his voice crack, Kendall shut his mouth immediately; the throbbing lump inside his throat began to form again. He tried to breathe it in and blink back the tears, but as soon as one escaped and trailed down his cheek, others followed.

"She couldn't see me graduate . . . I can't even see her after all this cause they said they've beaten her into pulp and stabbed more than—oh, God . . . !" Here comes another series of sobbing, Kendall thought to himself, trying so hard to hold it in, but to no avail.

Carlos and James both reached each of Kendall's trembling hands and tried to warm them up to soothe him down.

"I'm sorry . . . I just . . ."

"Sssh, it's okay . . ."

"I know how you feel," Carlos whispered. "I was . . . I was on my way home from the marketplace. I was going to cook her favorite asparagus soup. I even bought extra spices."

Kendall's sobs subsided into sniffles as he tried to completely stop and listen to Carlos's story.

"She was smiling this morning . . . for the first time in the last ten years of my life . . . my Mama was smiling again," a tear slipped down Carlos's cheek, "I felt so happy, I could die . . . I spent half of my savings for her soup; I thought it would make her happier. We were struggling to pay the rent, but I was keeping up with my jobs."

"Jobs?" Kendall asked with a small sniffle, tilting his head to the side a bit in signal of confusion.

Carlos gave a small nod, "I had five jobs going . . ." this is where Kendall gaped, James's eyes widen and Logan choked, ". . . and I was barely surviving."

"You worked _that_ hard alone?" Now it was James who had asked.

"Mama . . . was depressed. She spent her days crying over my father, and not for long, she became an addict. She was on serious drugs; there were times she nearly killed herself, but I could always stop her cause I never let her out of my sight. I only leave when she was sleeping—I know she'd be safe." Carlos explained.

"That's why she couldn't have a job," James concluded and Carlos nodded. The brunet patted Carlos's shoulder. "It wouldn't even matter if she had a job or not. My mother was a workaholic."

Both Carlos and Kendall turned their attention to him, and Logan glanced at the tallest of them all by the corner of his eye.

James sighed, "I guess when you're Brooke Diamond . . . you have no choice but to _be_ workaholic." At the mention of her name, all eyes in the room widened, but before anyone could say anything, James cut off, "Yes, I'm Brooke Diamond's son."

"That woman is rich _and _famous; you _do _know that, don't you?" Logan finally spoke up after a long while of silence.

A nod was all they needed and James gave them exactly that. There was a bitter smile plastered on his face before he shrugged, "She wasn't famous for being able to balance work and family, though."

And that's when Kendall understood why James didn't look like his world was crashing down. He wasn't that close to his mother, might even have a slight bitterness for her. Carlos, too, maybe, but he wasn't as sure as he was with James.

"They said they found her at home, in her room with her work clothes on. She must be heading to work," James said with a deep sigh while shaking his head. "Work, work, work . . ." he mumbled.

"And where were you?" Logan asked, leaning back on his chair before stretching his aching limbs a bit.

"Campus. I had a project to do."

"You're a what, exactly?"

"University student."

"No, I mean, what major?"

"Architecture."

"Oh. Rad."

"Thanks. What about you, Logan . . . ?" James asked, turning the tables figuratively, "What's your story?"

Kendall and Carlos looked at each other before all three were looking at Logan. The raven-haired only shrugged, "What makes you suckers think I'll tell _my _fucked up story?" He said with a smirk, popping a gum in his mouth after pulling it out of his pocket.

"If we're going to be living together, we might as well know." James stated after rolling his eyes, making Kendall blink once, twice.

"Woah, woah, wait, what? Living together?" The blond stammered in a panicked manner. "Who said anything about _living together?_ And where? Why?" He felt so clueless especially when the other three seemed to know about it.

Carlos tilted his head slightly in confusion, "Didn't Agent Brewster tell you?" And when Kendall shook his head, Carlos only glanced at James, as if asking him to answer their youngest brother, but James only returned the gaze. Carlos pressed his lips into a thin line before returning to face Kendall, "The FBI decided that the series of murder is extremely dangerous since they suspect that this case has something to do with the mafia."

"Mafia? Are you serious? But what does that have to do with us living together?" Kendall asked after what Carlos stated. "And where? Because I still have all my things back in my house, and . . ."

"After all this is settled, we're supposed to live in a safe house where the FBI could keep an eye on us," James explained, "The murderers of our mothers are still out there and the FBI is concerned with our safety. Somehow we're still under threat."

Suddenly Kendall finds it hard to breathe. Today was definitely shocking, confusing, unpredictable and just downright crazy. He took a small inhale, before closing his eyes, scrunching his nose, not knowing what to say.

"Shit," Logan cut off with a frown, hands behind his head as he leaned back on his chair, "Those crazy-ass murderers were looking for Scott _fucking_ Rush. And he just happens to be _our_ bastard of a father," At his language, Kendall grimaced and noticed Carlos cringe while James put on an annoyed expression, "Now we're all under a threat thanks to that jackass. Can't believe we're all in the same shithole, _shit_, just . . ."

As if on cue, the door opened, revealing Agent Brewster with two other agents behind her, "We do not appreciate that kind of language in this office, Mr. Mitchell, sir," she said, glaring a bit at him, making the young man raise a brow before rolling his eyes.

"Agent Brewster . . ." Kendall called out softly, confusion swimming in his bottle green eyes, and Emily could immediately know what he'll be asking the next second.

"Kendall, honey, let's go get your things."

The blond silenced for a moment before nodding, ". . .Okay."

* * *

A safe house is where people under threat live; a house safe enough with surveillance and security provided by the FBI. At least, that's what they told him on their way there.

It was Friday—normally Kendall would cheer on Fridays as there were no school, no pressure, hanging out with friends, waking up late, video games . . . But only yesterday the heartless murder of Jennifer Knight and three other mothers happened.

Still seems surreal, but yes, this was all happening. They had spent a shocking, confusing and restless night in the office and now Kendall is going to live his life with three of his half-brothers, at least until they're deemed safe.

Kendall clutched the box filled with some of his belongings on his lap, sitting in a tense manner in the van that was driving them to their future sanctuary. His clothes and other possessions are packed neatly in his luggage.

The ride was silent; each brother too preoccupied with their own minds to talk to one another or to the two FBI agents who were up front, driving. An hour on the road passed as James pressed his forehead on the window, Carlos fiddling with the hem of his shirt and Logan escaping reality with the rock music plugged into his ears.

Still clutching tightly on the brown box, Kendall kept his eyes on the framed photo of Jennifer and himself. She was smiling, hugging him. He didn't even notice the tears slipping down his cheeks until after James, who was seated next to him, handed him a handkerchief.

"Uh . . . th-thanks." Kendall whispered, voice cracking a bit as he took the green cloth, "Sorry . . ." he was glad that Logan was seated on the middle row of the car seat with Carlos, also, because he plugged his earphones in, or else he'd definitely be called names if he was seen crying.

He wouldn't really mind if Carlos saw him cry, but somehow, out of all three 'brothers', he felt James was the one who gave him a sense of security and comfort. It seems that Carlos was still too engrossed with his thoughts since he didn't turn around at Kendall's choke.

James, however, only offered a small smile and nodded.

Kendall wanted to just let it all out and have someone hold him; he was shaking. But before he could even scoot over to his seemingly reliable and kind-hearted older brother, the car slowed down into a stop.

They were here.

* * *

**Hi James, Carlos, Logan, you're here yay and HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA**

**I can't swear or cuss or curse because I'm not used to it. Call me lame or whatever.**

**Just review this before I sulk.**

**Lu.**


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